


A Rose Amongst Thorns

by BiowareManiac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne is the Best, F/M, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Smut, Tarthbane, Torienne, maybe sansan?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiowareManiac/pseuds/BiowareManiac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is my attempt at the Torienne/Tarthbane ship from Game of Thrones, I love this ship and I hope you guys like my interpretation of it! :D I'm taking my own spin on the story, so while it will follow the general happenings of the TV show I will have tweaked a few things! Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated.</p><p>If you want to add me to your favourites on fanfiction.net go here ---> https://www.fanfiction.net/~biowarefreak</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The snow fell softly around the party of three that trotted slowly between the white-crusted trees. Brienne had tasked herself to bring Sansa Stark to her brother the Lord Commander Jon Snow in Castle Black. Their third companion was her squire, Podrick Payne or ‘Pod’ as she’d learned to call him. He was unused to travelling the wilds of the north, but he was learning quickly in their short time together since they departed the Red Keep to find the Stark girls. It had felt like so long ago that Brienne had pledged her loyalty and sword to Catelyn Stark, and upon her Lady’s death she took it upon herself to protect what remains of the Stark house.

Sansa had kept her cloak above her head since they had escaped from Winterfell, her hair was uncanny throughout the realm and giving away their position to the Boltons would almost certainly mean death or worse for the three of them. Brienne had kept a sharp eye while they travelled, but had to rely on her sense of hearing due to the lack of visibility. Thankfully snow had been falling since they had left Winterfell and so a white carpet was placed over the forest, making it easy to hear the environment around them.

The forest opened up into a large clearing, a thin layer of snow lay crisp and fresh before a huge gate that lead into a huge, dark castle that looked like it had seen better days. As the trio of horses walked into the clearing, two archers clad in black stood in guard of the entrance. “Welcome to Castle Black, state your name and purpose” they shouted down to the riders, their accent thick and northern suiting the location of this place. As they reached the centre of the clearing they pulled their horses to a stop. They were glad for the rest it had been a long journey here, Brienne shifted in her saddle as she looked up to the archers.  
“We come to see the Lord Commander, I am Brienne of Tarth, this is my squire Podrick Payne” she paused and gestured to Sansa who was eyeing the archers with anxiety playing in her crystal blue eyes that contrasted so beautifully with her red hair. “And this is Lady Sansa Stark, sister to Jon Snow. May we pass?” The blonde woman said curtly up to the men, she watched as they nodded to one another and shouted an order for the gate to be opened. 

Once the gate had opened enough for Brienne’s horse to pass through, she nudged it into a steady walk with Sansa and Pod in tow. As they entered into the courtyard, it seemed like the castle’s inhabitants had been frozen upon their appearance. There was one particular man who looked strong and rough, not like other ‘men’ she had met from the south. His hazel brown eyes gazed upon her as if she were a rose sprung from the snow. It unsettled her, she moved her eyesight forward to the man she assumed was Jon Snow, he was stood between Sir Davos and the Red Woman. With a look of contempt Brienne brought her mount to a halt and released the reins to allowed it to stretch its neck and relax after it’s long journey. She dismounted and strode over to the grey mare that carried Sansa. She offered her arm, allowing the lady to dismount gracefully but no sooner had she touched the ground, Sansa had taken off across the courtyard towards her brother. Not caring for mud or the onlookers, Sansa ran and leapt into Jon’s embrace. A successful smile spread over her lips, she had completed her mission to reunite the Stark family. Her attempt with Arya was lost long before Brienne had encountered the Hound, never had she seen such anger and sadness within a young girl before. Before she got too distracted by her thoughts, Brienne drew in her focus and walked back to her horse, gladly stretching her muscles after the three-day ride they had just endured. Pod had already dismounted and was patting his chestnut gelding gently on the neck, four men walked across the courtyard towards them, two took the reins and walked the horses to the stables to be fed and watered, Pod would likely go and brush them later as was his therapy when he couldn’t sleep. The other two came to escort them to the dining hall, if it could be called that. One of them was the flame haired man who was staring at her earlier, but he was closer now and she could see the deep pools of desire that sat in his eyes. She distanced herself from the man, his gaze unsettled her, no one had ever looked at her like that before. It gave her a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling she chose to ignore. Brienne allowed the men to guide her there, to see how the outcome of their arrival would sit.


	2. Chapter 2

The hazel eyed man sat directly across from Brienne, Sansa sat beside her and begrudgingly ate her stew. It was not the nicest but considering where they came from anything was a blessing, Jon who sat across from Sansa made a few half-hearted jokes about it. But tension was thick in the air, between Sansa brewing about Winterfell beside her and man sat across from her who had yet to cease eye contact it was unbearable. While maintaining her stature, she averted her gaze to the stew sat before her. Jon could obviously sense the tension between the two, he cleared his throat and managed to distract the large man for a time, “Lady Brienne, this is Tormund Giantsbane. He’s the leader of the Free People and my saviour” he stated, the smallest of grins tugging at the corner of his mouth. Tormund turned his head to resume his gazing at the stunningly broad woman who sat across from him. Brienne looked up at him, unable to control her facial expression the faintest of blushes graced her pale, sharp features. She sat up abruptly, her face in a stern scowl at this embarrassment she was enduring. Brienne looked into his eyes, now in the firelight she noticed that amongst the treebark-like brown there were golden flecks surrounding his pupils. She re-focused and looked at the large man in the eye,   
“I am Brienne of Tarth, I am sworn to Lady Stark as her protector” she said curtly before returning to her stew, finishing it faster than she would have hoped. 

Brienne ate her meal quickly, gathering her bowl, spoon and mug she raised from her seat, “Lady Sansa, I would turn in for the evening with your permission” she asked with a bowed head, Sansa nodded and said goodnight. Tormund got to his feet a little too quickly, the wooden bench scraping loudly on the flagstone floor, “I could, I mean if you would let me Lady Brienne of Turth, escort you to the guest room” he said, being this the first time he’s seen a southern woman who’d taken his fancy Tormund wanted to be polite before he allowed her to see his not-so-polite Wildling side. Her mouth opened in surprise, but Jon spoke before she could make a sound.   
“No Tormund, let us not harass our guest anymore”. He signaled a member of the Night’s Watch to escort her to her chambers. The man was considerably shorter than Brienne, this one looked at her like she was some kind of brute, just like all the others. But this option was far better than having to be looked upon in such a manner by Tormund, at least the smaller man would leave her be. 

Tormund awkwardly sat back into his chair after Lady Tarth had left the room, her bore a hole into the side of Jon Snow’s head whilst he discussed overthrowing Winterfell with Sansa. Jon only seemed to notice Tormund’s glare when Sansa started looking oddly at him. Jon leaned on his elbow as he munched hungrily on his piece of bread, it was hard work after all coming back from the dead. “Yes, Tormund. What is it?” he asked before taking another hearty bite. Tormund’s nostrils flared angrily,   
“Why did you do that Crow? I was polite, I wasn’t going to hurt her” he snarled, banging his fist on the table making the young Stark jump a little. Jon raised his brow, telling the Wildling what he already knew with his expression.   
“Because Master Giantsbane, you were making our guest uncomfortable with your staring” Jon stated before returning to his original stance, “besides, Brienne is a southern lady. You’re going to have to do better than staring if you want to win that one”, Tormund pondered Jon’s offer of advice before digging back into his meal.

He rose from his chair and left the hall for the Wildling encampment close to Castle Black. His cob ran as fast as his little legs would carry him through the dense trees until he arrived at the gathering of tents. He trotted along rows of cloth tents until he came to one which had boxes surrounding it, he dismounted and walked into the tent, trusting the hardy animal to stay where it was. An older woman sat on her bedroll, pouring hot tea into two cups. Tormund sat before her,   
“Dahild, I need your help. I am attempting to woo a southern lass. Do you have anything that I could gift to her, perhaps it would soften her gaze towards me” he said, glancing down at his hands and back up to meet the woman’s. She lifted a finger to her chin in thought before smiling, Dahild gestured for him to bring a box that was sat behind him, he complied quickly and gave it to her. She held the box gently and pried it open, inside was a small silver broach with a sapphire wolf cast into the silver. It was a masterwork, engraved in the silver were branches that swirled across the metal. It was a masterwork, something that one of his people had spent many hours crafting. Tormund paid for the gift, handling it gently on the ride back to Castle Black. The castle was quiet; nightfall had already descended upon the snow crested land. He trotted quickly across the courtyard, tying his horse for the stable boy before darting off to Brienne’s nightchamber. 

The saliva was thick in his throat when he knocked on the door to Brienne’s chamber, he heard her clamber out of bed and pad to the door. The door creaked open, allowing a sliver of candlelight to shine out from behind her. The light allowing him to see her form through her woolen nightgown. He averted his gaze remembering his manners, when he looked back to Brienne, her expression was a combination of confusion and surprise. “T-Tormund?” she asked, blinking to adjust to the darkness outside her room. He presented a small wooden box to her,   
“um yes, my lady. I bring you a gift, it has travelled many miles to get here and also crafted by one of my people” he said as he handed her the gift. When she opened the box, Brienn’es face was awash with gratitude and surprise, but returned to confusion shortly after.   
“It is a beautiful gift Tormund, but I do not understand why you have given it to me” she said, honestly baffled by the gesture. Tormund scratched the back of his head,   
“The broach is pretty and well, you’re pretty too. Like a rose that has managed to dig through the snow and flower, its rare and beautiful. Just like you” he said quietly. Brienne’s brows knitted together, she turned her body away from him, shy all of a sudden at her bareness.   
“The gesture is most kind Master Giantsbane, I am grateful for the gift” she said calmly, eyeing the gift with such delicacy that one could almost mistake her for a typical southern lady. “It is late; I must rest for tomorrow. Goodnight Master Giantsbane” she said quietly, flickering her eyes to his in offering of a kind smile. She closed the door before he could reply, but Brienne seemed grateful enough. Tormund made his way down to the courtyard where his horse awaited him.

On his way out, he caught himself grinning in a passing window, he had not felt this way about a woman, never had Tormund found himself in such awe of a specimen. Once he was back in the saddle he pushed the cob into a steady walk, the sound of the horse’s hooves echoing around the courtyard. He looked across to the tower that held Brienne and released a heavy sigh before nudging his horse into a comfortable canter back to his camp.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning was dark and dreary; rain fell in fat drops to the ground around the two riders. Sansa had received word from Petyr Baelish, he had written to Sansa to make contact and arrange a meeting with her in Molestown, a small village not far from Castle Black. The scroll was delivered whilst Sansa sat quietly and worked on a new dress, Brienne remembered watching her read the letter from the man who married her to the monster, Ramsay Bolton. Her face was that of stone, hard and still. Sansa tensed her jaw and rose from her seat slowly, “Brienne, please ready my horse. We will entertain Lord Baelish and meet as he asks, but he is a snake Brienne. Do not trust him” she stated before turning on her heel to dart in the direction of her bedchambers. Brienne nodded and left the room to make her way to the stables, as she walked across the courtyard she noticed the Wilding man working on a weapon at the forge. Once she reached the stables, she allowed herself a moment to watch what Tormund was doing. Brienne could swing a sword better than any man she had come across, crafting them however was not a forte of hers. As a girl Brienne had loved to sit with the armourer and watch him work the steel into pieces of art. Before she was noticed standing and staring at the Wildling, she went inside and began tacking the horses ready for travel. 

Tormund had seen Brienne cross the courtyard in his peripheral vision, he tried not to stare as it had been pointed out as making her uncomfortable. Steam rose in plumes as he dipped the steel into the cool water, he angled it so he could see straight down the blade and fixing any errors he saw. His hazel eyes flickered up to see Brienne leaned on the wood-frame and watching his hands intently, he returned his gaze to the metal and ran over the surface with a whetstone. The sword he was making was nothing out of the ordinary, he had offered his skills to the armourer and helped with forging swords and other such weapons. When he looked up again she had gone to tend the horses, and so he continued his work to help arm the Wilding army in preparation for the invasion of Winterfell. 

Brienne held Sansa’s mare steady while her master mounted gracefully, Brienne swung herself into the saddle with ease before the pair headed out of the castle. They moved into an easy canter through the trees and once the land opened up as the forest ended they broke into a gallop across the open plains. They got to Molestown within the hour of leaving Castle Black, Brienne and Sansa arrived at the entrance to what once was perhaps a small inn but now it was a burnt ruin. They entered through the doorway together, with Brienne in front as a protective measure. A thin, blued eyes man stood at the centre of the ‘room’, if it could be called that, all around them lay the ashes of an attack long passed. 

Sansa stepped past Brienne, hurt and anger playing in her icy glare that directed at him, she dared him to take another step towards her. Petyr’s eyes carefully watched the young Stark and decided to stay where he was, “Lady Sansa, I had feared the worst when I heard that you escaped Winterfell” Petyr’s voice was soft, his expression was relief to see her in one piece, “you have no idea how pleased I am that you are unharmed” he went on. Brienne watched him as he spoke, she had heard tales of this man, he was a snake trying to charm his way to the top. But she saw that there was sincerity in his pale eyes. However, Sansa stayed quietly seethed in contempt of his statement, snow fell around her from a hole in the ceiling. Brienne was not close to Sansa, but she could hear the change in her breathing. Anger coursed through Sansa, her hands were now in whitened fists inside her sleeves,   
“Unharmed?” she spat, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to maintain her composure, “what are you doing here?” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. Petyr’s face shifted from relief to pained at her rejection, he shifted his stance slightly before replying,   
“I rode north with the Knights of the Vale to come to your aid, they are camped at Moat Cailin as we speak” he said with a slight bow of his head. Sansa raised her eyebrows and snorted in contempt, nothing this man could say now would sway her back to his side. How could he be so naïve as to not know Ramsay Bolton’s nature? Even after he learned of his nature, where was he then?  
“To come to my aid?” she stated with a slow nod, letting the pause hang in the air for a moment before curving her thin mouth into a frown, “did you know about Ramsay? If you didn’t know then you are an idiot, and if you knew then you are my enemy” she hissed at him, Brienne was impressed with Sansa’s control of this situation. The woman that she had grown into, despite the terrors that she has seen, was magnificent and it gave Brienne hope. She stood strong behind the Stark girl, if Sansa ordered it she would gut ‘Littlefinger’ where he stood. 

Sansa took a menacing step towards him, uncertainty flickered over Lord Baelish’s eyes for just one moment. “Do you want to hear about my wedding night?” she said, taking another step towards him, “he never hurt my face, not my face, the face of Ned Stark’s daughter.” At the mention of her father, the memory of him kneeling on the headman’s block as Joffrey refused mercy and killed him flashed behind her eyes making her swallow back her sadness once more. “But the rest of me? Well he did what he liked with the rest of me. As long as I could still give him an heir” she paused, reinstating her pain with another dagger-like glare, “what do you think he did?” Sansa demanded. Petyr looked at her with an expression of empathy, but it was hard to tell if his expressions were real or just another part of his conniving plan. Littlefinger shook his head in both shock of being asked this question and starting to understand the pain which has been inflicted upon this poor girl.   
“I cannot begin to imagine- “   
“What, do you think he did to me?” she asked once more, raising the volume of her voice to assert her authority in this situation. He averted his gaze for less than a second, a grimace washed over his face, Brienned brought her hand to the pommel of her sword.   
“Lady Sansa asked you a question” she stated calmly, Lord Baelish asked if Ramsay had beaten her which only brought a sarcastic chuckle to her lips.   
“Yes, he liked that. What else?” she said calmly through a clenched jaw, she wanted him to say it, to understand the agony she felt. The tension was thick in the cold air, Petyr was doing anything to avoid answering the question, when he gave Sansa to the Boltons he did not know about Ramsay. He knew that he was wrong, it was a position he not often held and found himself at a loss. He remembered the girl who left Winterfell all those years ago, she looked the same but she was a changed woman that no longer sang songs of knights and flowers. The woman who stood before him was a warrior in her own right, and the trials she has endured have proven that much.   
“Did he cut you?” he asked, Sansa sighed in disappointment and allowed her posture to slouch some.   
“Maybe you did know about Ramsay all along- “she sighed as her head turned away from him, not wanting to believe that he knew but how could he not?  
“I swear I didn’t know” he pleaded, but there was nothing Petyr could say to win back her favour.   
“But you know everyone and their secrets!” Sansa snarled at him, but he took a step towards her and took her hands in his, making her freeze.   
“I made a mistake, a horrible mistake. I underestimated a stranger” he paused, hearing his admission out loud but not seeing Sansa soften under his touch like she used to. She drew away from him,   
“The things he did; ladies aren’t supposed to talk about those things. But I imagine brothel keeps talk about them all the time” her gaze moved to her hand then back up to him, “I can still feel it; and I don’t mean in my tender heart. I can still feel what he did in my body, even now”. 

Sansa’s gaze never faltered from Lord Baelish, Brienne could feel the anguish radiating from Sansa. She could relate to the Stark girl, about a year ago when Brienne was taking Jaime Lannister back to the Red Keep upon Lady Catelyn’s orders. They were captured and the men threatened to do to Brienne what Sansa speaks of. She had never been so scared, they would have violated her body and then cut her throat had it not been for Jaime’s intervention. Brienne’s gaze fell to the floor, sympathising with both sides. Petyr apologised to Sansa, begging for forgiveness so that he might help her conquest to overthrow Winterfell in repayment for his mistakes.   
“You said you would protect me, but right now you couldn’t even protect yourself if I told Brienne to run you through” she growled at him, “perhaps I might”  
“You must believe me Sansa; do you want me to beg for my life? I will, whatever I can do that is within my power I will do, my lady” he begged, pleading with her not to make the wrong decision and cut him out of her life but Sansa’s glare was unwavering,   
“but what if I want you to die?”   
“Then I shall die” he said plainly and honestly, the answer planted a seed of doubt in her mind. Even if she wanted to trust him, how could she?  
“You saved me from the monsters who killed my family, only to give me to monsters that killed my family” her nostrils flared, Jon, Rickon and Sansa were the only remaining living members of House Stark. Her memories of Robb, Arya and her parents were so faint now that she could no longer see their faces when she thought of them, tears threatened Sansa’s composure. “Go back to Moat Cailin, my brother and I will take back the North on our own” she hissed, her lip curling in disgust at Lord Baelish, “I never want to see you again”   
“I would do anything to undo what has been done to you, but I cannot” he said, trying to empathise with the girl before it was too late. “May I say one more thing before I take my leave?” he waited for her to reply, when she did not he spoke anyway, “your great-uncle, Brendan the ‘Blackfish’ has re-taken Riverrun. A time will come when you will need a loyal army at your side, I suggest meeting with him” 

Petyr stepped past Sansa and Brienne, “farewell Lady Sansa, Lady Brienne” he stated before taking his leave. Brienne looked to Sansa, who had not moved since she last spoke.   
“My Lady, shall we return to Castle Black?” she asked, breaking the silence. Sansa turned her head slowly to face Brienne and nodded, leaving the building without a word. Brienne maintained a respectful distance till they reached the horse until she helped Sansa mount the horse before mounting her own and leading the way out of the village.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the wait there guys, I kinda moved house and was ill for a bit but here ya go! Going to publish a chapter every monday from here onwards :) enjoy!

A few days had passed since Brienne and Sansa had seen Petyr Baelish and a new layer of snow coated the land. Winter was most definitely coming Brienne thought as she crossed the courtyard, she glanced down to her chest and smiled slightly at the silver and blue broach that was pinned to her overcoat. When blood began to rush to her face in thought she straightened awkwardly before making sure that no one had seen her daydreaming. After a fast walk across the courtyard she entered the dining hall where Jon, Sansa, Tormund and man named Edison sat at a table covered in a map of Westeros. Edison was the man who was to take the position of Lord Commander after this meeting, they muttered among themselves agreeing on what was to become of the Night’s Watch after Jon’s departure. As Brienne sat down, the discussion of what to do about the Bolton hold on Winterfell. Jon stood and flattened the edges of the map with his hand, “we cannot defend the north from White Walkers and the south from the Boltons, if we want to survive then we need Winterfell” he said, pointing to its place on the map and picking up a piece from the surface, “and to take Winterfell, we need more men” he stated in frustration before tossing the piece back onto the table. Ser Davos was deep in thought; Brienne gave the man a side glance before turning her gaze to Sansa.  
“Aside from the Starks and the Boltons, the most powerful houses in the North are the Umbers, Carstarks and the Mannerly’s” Davos rose from his seat, and moved the pieces with the three sigils on them onto the part marked Winterfell, “the Umbers and the Carstarks have already declared for the Boltons, so we’re not doing so well there-“   
“The Umbers gave Rickon to our enemy, they can hang” Sansa stated curtly, curling her lips into a snarl. “But the Carstarks declared for Ramsay without knowing they had another choice” she continued, her face changing into small smile that tugged at the side of her mouth in hope that this might help. Ser Davos pulled a strained expression at her,   
“I beg your pardon my lady, know that a Stark beheaded their father and I don’t think we can count on them either” he said plainly, Sansa’s mouth was now formed into a straight line as she shifted in her seat,   
“How well do you know the north Ser Davos?” Sansa asked bluntly in contempt, “my father always said that northerners were different, more loyal and more suspicious of outsiders” 

The debate between Davos and Sansa regarding the continued for a while, Brienne sat back and relaxed for a moment while the others bickered among themselves. She heard the conversation draw to a close, noting that Sansa lied to her brother concerning how she learned of her uncle in Riverrun. Brienne would bring this up afterwards, but she sighed in the knowledge that she was being sent to Riverrun to take a message to ‘Blackfish’, Sansa’s uncle. Brienne would be going alone; it would be six days’ round trip assuming that there were no complications on the way.

Once the conversation drew to a close, everyone went their separate ways to prepare for the journey south. Brienne walked with Sansa to her quarters, once they were inside she felt free to speak her mind. “Can we not send a raven my lady? It would be much faster” she protested, not really understanding why she was being sent away and leaving Sansa unprotected.   
“A raven may be intercepted by Ramsay, you will go” she demanded, not wavering but Brienne was not done making her point. She knew men, she knew that they had no loyalty in them. Ser Davos for example, helped a man kill his brother and before the man was cold they were already firmly lodged between Jon’s butt-cheeks. “I do not trust them” she stated, Sansa protested in defence of her brother but it was not Jon who concerned her, “I do not trust Ser Davos and the Red Lady, they are disloyal and spineless. Jumping from leader to leader depending on who might hold power” she went on, but Sansa stopped her worrying with a comforting hand on her shoulder.   
“I will be fine, now prepare for your journey. It will be a long one” she said with a smile before her blue eyes flickered to the broach. “Where did you get the broach Brienne? It is very pretty” she complimented. The room suddenly felt as though a dozen hearths had suddenly been lit by wildfire as Brienne’s face flushed red, as the realisation washed over Sansa she grinned, “is this from Tormund?” she asked, her smile formed into a perfect grin.   
“It was a gift. Good day Lady Sansa, I bid you farewell and good luck on your travels” Brienne said quickly before quickly walking out to return to her quarters. Sansa returned to her own preparations to go south with a chuckle as she watched her friend walk away from her. 

Brienne left with a nod and returned to her quarters to gather her things. Her saddle bags were almost packed when Tormund knocked on her door, she opened it with a vague expression of surprise, “Hello Tormund, how can I help?” she asked, her attempts to control her facial expression failed as her pale cheeks flushed pink.  
“Hello Brienne, can I speak to you?” He asked softly, a small smile playing on his lips. She was glad however to not be in her nightgown this time, Brienne waved him inside and offered her chair as a seat. Tormund sat awkwardly in the chair, between his sheer size and his thick winter clothing the chair really wasn’t big enough and so he decided to remain standing. Brienne brushed the short strands of blond hair out of her face before perching on the edge of her bed to listen to what he wanted to say. Her crystal blue eyes met his, making his voice catch in his throat as he began to speak.   
“Have you enjoyed your time at Castle Black?” He asked as he looked around the room, the smile growing as he noticed the broach that was pinned to her shoulder. “The broach, you kept it” he said barely louder than whisper. Brienne turned her head downward to look at it with a fond gaze before she gave a nod. Tormund’s smile grew as he slowly moved to sit next to her, wary of her like she was a wild animal that might spook. Brienne watched him carefully, her ocean blue eyes not leaving him as he sat a hair’s width away from her. Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity, she could feel the heat and tension that grew between the two of them. Tormund turned his head to look at her, his brown eyes held a soft gaze that meant no harm. Brienne lifted her eyes to meet his eyes, their iris’ locked as the heat in her abdomen returned under his gaze. 

Tormund had known that this encounter would have been tense but he had never felt like so like a wide-eyed rabbit as he did now. He had severed heads from men’s shoulders without a flinch but held in the intense stare that Brienne continued he found himself feeling vulnerable for the first time in his life. Her face was flushed, now that he was this close he could see the pretty hairline scars that decorated her face. Despite her current vulnerability Tormund knew she was a warrior, clearly as fearless as he, their souls matched in their soldier hearts. He released a soft sigh before cupping her face as gently as he could with his rough hands, her blue eyes widened in surprise which only led to her face flushing further. Tormund held her gaze before pressing his lips to hers, Brienne tensed against him at first but he felt her relax and lean into him. He pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his for just a moment before she sat up straight and averted her gaze. Brienne’s face was still glowing gloriously as she shielded her embarrassment and a shadow of doubt was cast across his mind. He felt his heart thud beneath his chest, Tormund’s brown orbs turned to look at her full pink lips, he thought about how much he wanted to kiss those lips before returning his gaze to her sapphire blue eyes which were currently filled with such embarrassment. He had no idea that this was the first time anyone had ever looked at her with such grandeur, nevermind kiss her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update!! NSFW scene ahead, hope ya'll enjoy!!  
> Also, this work was inspired by: Under A Silent Sea --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2743646  
> It's a oneshot following the Sansan ship, a really great piece of writing, give it a shot!

“there is no need to be shy my lady, if you did not welcome my advance then I will leave you to-“ 

But before he could finish his sentence Brienne had whipped round and had pressed her lips to his whilst she wrapped her strong arms around his neck, this time she smiled into the kiss as well as making a pleasant noise in the base of her throat. Tormund was taken aback, the feelings of rejection were long gone as he placed his hands on her butt and scooped her into his lap. His fingers kneaded her muscled behind as he allowed her to deepen the kiss. Brienne opened her mouth slightly, a tiny moan escaping her lips with an exhale. Tormund took his opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth and allowed a groan of his own to join Brienne’s, to his surprise she didn’t pull away when his tongue met hers, instead she initiated a dance and beckoned him further. It was only kind to oblige, his need was pressing against the fabric of his trousers and she had started to gyrate her hips with desire. Tormund raised his hands from her ass and found his way beneath her tunic, he felt her strong muscles move and flex beneath his hands. Brienne was a marvel, surely he could not be blessed with such a fierce warrior. Tormund moved his hands to the buttons at the front of her tunic, he undid each one deftly but as he went to peel the layer from her smooth porcelain skin, Brienne clutched the fabric together over her breasts. Her gaze was averted, and her cheeks were a deep rose-red.  
“No man has ever seen me naked, forgive me for my shyness” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Tormund raised his finger to Brienne’s chin to lift her face until her eyes met his,  
“You are the most spectacular woman I have ever seen, there is no need to be shy” he reassured her, his gaze filled with sincerity as he pressed his lips to hers once again. He was gentle, allowing her to melt into the kiss once more. The heat was quickly rekindled, Brienne leaned into the embrace and allowed Tormund to cautiously remove her tunic. The candlelight illuminated the curves of her muscled torso, her arms crossed protectively over her breasts that were yet covered by a leather breastband. Tormund saw her shyness and felt only confusion, he only wanted her to enjoy this and to understand how he felt about her. Deciding that a touch of encouragement was in order he pressed soft kisses along her jawline, nibbling her skin gently with his teeth. Tormund continued his journey down her neck, finding her pulse and sucking it gently

Brienne was awash with sensation; her feelings of self-consciousness were overtaken with those of desire. The way Tormund’s lips moved over skin set his trail ablaze, the heat that spread over her abdomen made her hips move in circles in his lap. In a smooth motion she reached behind her and untied the breastband, allowing the strap of leather to fall to the cold stone floor. Tormund took the discarded garment as a sign he should continue his path that lead further down her neck, across her collarbone before he narrowed his focus onto her bosom. He planted slow, sucking kisses over her skin before taking her already hard nipples into his mouth and flicked his tongue over her hardened flesh. 

Brienne shifted her weight back onto her feet, pulling away and manoeuvring herself so she was stood between Tormund and the burning hearth behind her. Her sapphire blue eyes were dark with desire, her hands worked her belt and dropped her leggings onto the floor. Tormund watched with a carnal gaze, as she made herself bare before him, his thumb moving over his bottom lip as he watched. All that remained was her smallclothes, Brienne pulled at the ties and allowed the garment to join her trousers on the floor and revealed a small tuft of blonde hair below her pubic bone. Tormund got to his feet and began undoing various belts and removing layers of clothing to reveal his muscled but heavily scarred torso, Brienne could see where the two arrows had pierced his skin in the battle for Castle Black. Once all of his layers were gone, and he was as naked as she, Tormund walked over to her and gently pulled her close. As she pressed her bare skin against his, she felt the length of his hard member pressing into her abdomen. Tormund brushed his fingers over her cheek, before kissing her passionately and driving his tongue into her mouth. Tormund wanted her, and now that he knew that Brienne wanted him too he could be much more forward and allow his primal side to show somewhat. He snaked his hands to under her thighs and lifted her up before carrying her to the bed, Tormund placed her gently on the bed and moved himself between her legs before leaning down to kiss her once more.  
“Tell me what you want, Lady of the Sapphire Isle” he murmured, Brienne squirmed beneath him. She had never been taught this part of womanhood, Brienne was raised a soldier and usually these advances met with steel. But she submitted to him willingly, he was the one she wanted to take her maidenhead.  
“I-I want you Tormund” she stammered, her cheeks now a heavenly deep red at her admission, and with it Tormund would give her whatever she asked. His hand snaked down her stomach and over her abdomen to her already wet centre, her folds were slick with desire his fingers explored her sensitive core. Tormund slowly entered a finger into her, easing her taut skin wider until he could add another. As he thrust his deft fingers into her, Brienne moaned softly, he muscles tightening as the feeling brought her closer and closer to ecstasy. Brienne felt as though she was atop a cliff waiting to plunge into the dark but enticing water below. Tormund growled with approval and brought his mouth to her ear,

“Come for me” he commanded in a soft whisper, but it was Brienne’s undoing as she felt herself fall over the edge as she came, her moans filling the room as Tormund allowed her a moment to revel in the moment before positioning himself at her entrance and gently pushing the soft tip of his cock into her. He could feel her skin stretching around his girth, his thrusts were slow to begin with, to allow her acclimatise himself to his size. Her dark gaze met his as he sank into her, Brienne’s breaths were deep now as her hips moved with his. Brienne wanted more, the slow thrusts teased her sensitive walls, but she knew he would wait till she asked. 

“Tormund.. I need-more” she begged as he thrust into her, Brienne demanded more and more is what he would give her. Tormund’s pace became deep and fast; his movements were rough like the rolling ocean. Brienne could feel herself succumbing to the feeling of Tormund inside her, her walls tightened around him as pleasure washed over her. Tormund could feel her getting closer, her skin had turned to gooseflesh despite the roaring fire across from them. With Brienne writhing beneath him, Tormund could feel his own release edging closer and beckoning him to lose himself in her.


	6. Chapter 6

The pair were nigh-on shouting by the time they found their release, outside their door passing guards paused in their morning watch at the noise before continuing on their way with a smile. Brienne nuzzled into Tormund’s chest, she bore a satisfied smile as he wrapped his strong arms around her, Brienne noted that few men could hold her this way without her looking like a giant. They had not spoken since they had separated, allowing a comfortable silence to fall over them. Brienne cleared her throat to clear the silence,  
“Tormund… what do we do now?” she asked timidly, suddenly aware of how bare she was as she crossed her arms over her chest. Tormund looked down at her, brushing a stray golden hair out of her face,   
“You have to ride to Riverrun to play messenger, we will talk about it when you return” he said, but the words bore no comfort to Brienne as they conveyed nothing of certainty. Seeing the look of doubt on her face, he pulled one of his necklaces over his head. It was a large animal tooth that was embroidered with fine black leather and small pale stones, he ran his finger over the smooth surface of the tooth before placing it around Brienne’s neck,   
“This was my mother’s necklace, she gave it to me before she died” he paused, the warm memories of his mother flooding his mind, the smallest of smiles crept onto the corner of Tormund’s mouth, “she was a fierce warrior too, I want you to have the necklace” he said quietly, not sure what Brienne would make of the gesture. He lifted his gaze and found that she was flattered by the gift, Brienne pushed herself up and sat up on the edge of the bed, the pendant sitting perfectly between her rounded breasts. Baring a pretty smile, she turned her body to face Tormund behind her,   
“Thank you Tormund, I will keep it safe” she said gleefully, her smile fading as she remembered her task. Packing and then leaving to go south. Brienne didn’t want to leave in the first place, but with recent developments she could already feeling the tugging that told her to stay and just send a raven but she was commanded by her Lady, and so to Riverrun she must go. “I must continue to pack, I have to leave soon if I am to make it in good time to Riverrun” she whispered as she began gathering up her clothes. 

Tormund nodded, he understood how she felt, he didn’t want her to leave either. Taking back Riverrun sounded like a big achievement, it surely would have drawn unwanted attention and that always means trouble. Brienne was capable, but she wasn’t immortal, not everyone has the ‘Lord of Light’ on their side and the thought of losing her left a pitfall feeling in his stomach. Tormund sat up on the bed beside Brienne, planting a soft kiss on her bare shoulder before making a start on redressing himself while Brienne did the same. Once they were dressed, an awkward silence fell over the pair, neither of them wanted to go but Tormund wasn’t going to distract her from her duties. He would never forgive himself if he caused her to make a mistake that cost her life.   
“I will return to my quarters so you can pack in peace” he said as he walked over to her, Tormund cupped her face gently with his hands as softly as he could before he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was hot, and needy but it was also filled with something else, a silent prayer from the both of them for each other’s safety. “Stay safe, I will see you when you return” he stated before turning and making his way to the door, he looked back with a smile and made his way to his quarters. 

The room felt huge and lonely now that Tormund was no longer in it, Brienne hurriedly packed her bags and then called for Pod to help her with her armour. A short while later Pod rapped his knuckles on the wood, she could hear his panting breath from the other side of the solid wood door from running from his quarters to hers. She called him in and within fifteen minutes she was fully armoured and ready for travel. Brienne walked into the courtyard with Pod, pulling her leather gloves over her chilled hands. Whilst checking the various straps on her equipment, she allowed herself to scan over the courtyard in hope of seeing Tormund before she went but alas he was nowhere to be seen, and her heart sank for it. Brienne frowned as Sansa strode over to her, she put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself onto the large grey horse. He was a magnificent beast, tall and strong but not too heavy either, another one of Jaime Lannister’s gifts. Brienne looked down to the red haired girl who forced a smile for her, Sansa was sad to see Brienne go. They had become fast friends since they left Winterfell together,  
“Good luck Brienne, I will pray that you return safely to us” she said, resting a small, warm hand on Brienne’s leg. Brienne nodded,   
“I will do everything I can to get you the army you need my Lady” Brienne stated, placing her hand over Sansa’s, pausing a moment before trotting out of the courtyard with Pod in tow, soon disappearing into the snow-dusted trees. 

Tormund sat in the archer’s tower above the gate, he absent-mindedly carved at a chunk of wood as he watched the pair make their way south. He had wanted to say goodbye in the courtyard, but it was a public display of affection that he wasn’t ready for. It had been long since he had loved a woman, the mother of his two daughters was his first but she fell to the cold. He could not bear another loss, but the compulsion to be around Brienne was intoxicating, he found himself constantly marvelling at her many strengths. Tormund smiled, recalling fond memories of a few hours beforehand. Even though he had no gods, Tormund found himself praying that Brienne would return to him unscathed.


	7. Chapter 7 Brienne

Rain fell in fat blobs from the dark clouds above the two riders, Brienne had not spoken a single word since she and Pod had left Winterfell. In the pit of her stomach Brienne felt the shadow of something terrible, as she looked up to the darkened sky she whispered a silent prayer for her friends, Sansa and Jon but allowed herself to think of Tormund. The familiar tugging in her heart that told her to go at full gallop back to Winterfell, if her mission in Riverrun was unsuccessful then they would likely march without her and if the Starks lost to the Boltons she would likely return to a mirage of horrors. Brienne pushed the morbid thoughts from her mind, returning her gaze back to Pod and she noticed that he was humming ‘Bear and Maiden Fair’ and flashbacks of when the Boltons locked her in an ‘arena’ to watch her fight a bear with no armour just a silly pink dress and a wooden broadsword. All around her, jeering faces sang that song as a literal bear was taking her apart, chunk by chunk. That was when Jaime had appeared and saved her, he jumped down and got her out of the pit. Brienne not often played the ‘damsel in distress’ and she certainly did not enjoy it.   
Snapping back to the present, Brienne curled her lip at Pod, “Pod. Stop singing that song” she commanded, Pod pulled an expression of vague hurt before resuming his usual blank appearance. She nodded and as the forest opened up to the south, they pair pushed their mounts into a gallop across the open plains. 

For two days the pair rode through sunshine and small showers of rain, by the time they got to Riverrun they were soaked through and shivering. As they got to the top of the hill it became apparent that the mission was going to be complex from the start, low and behold before them sat a fully equipped Lannister war camp. “It looks like a siege, my lady” Pod said as he cast his eyes across the many tents that spread out before them.  
Brienne pulled an expression of mild annoyance “you have a keen military mind Pod” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. She straightened in her saddle as she noticed Jaime Lannister commanding troops below them, two riders approached them and they stopped a few metres away from them.   
“Who goes there?” the demanded, their red and gold embroidered flag waving in the gentle wind. “State your business!”   
“I am Brienne of Tarth, inform Jaime Lannister I have arrived and wish to speak with him” she commanded, “tell him I have his sword” her expression and stature not giving an inch and the riders looked to one another before decisively rode towards the largest tent that was closest to the drawbridge. 

Brienne dismounted and she marched into the tent, her blue eyes wide with anticipation. She left leaving Pod to be ambushed by Bron, it was a nice distraction for him, he did not have many friends outside King’s Landing.

In the tent Brienne stood awkwardly at the entrance, Jaime turned to see her and as recognition set in a warm smile graced his fair features. “Leave us” he commanded and he turned to face the tall blonde warrior who entered his tent, “Lady Brienne, an unexpected visit” he said with a smile, Jaime only had fondness for the warrior who stood before him. He was surprised that she still carried ’Oathkeeper’, but more surprised to see her alive. “How did you extract Sansa from Winterfell? I didn’t think you’d find her; I had thought her dead by now” he said, his voice and body language clearly showing that he was impressed with her feats. But his words were only met with a sneer,   
“Why would you think that?” she scoffed,   
“In my experience, girls like her do not last very long-“   
“I do not think you know many girls like her” she cut in, admittedly when Brienne had first seen Sansa she had been a mere child, but since she had left King’s Landing Sansa’s time with Littlefinger had been invaluable. The growth made Brienne’s chest swell with pride, Sansa was a strong young woman and the world would tremble beneath her feet.

Jaime nodded, “well, I’m proud of you Brienne” he said warmly, Brienne averted her gaze not quite sure what to make of this, “I truly am, you kept your vows to Catelyn against all odds” he stated, as he raised his hand to the pommel of his sword. “Of course, my sister wants Sansa dead in regards to Joffrey’s murder” Jaimie walked around the large wooden war table and stood before her, his gaze softening, “so there is that… complication” he said with a raised brow. Brienne stood fast, the grip tightening on Oathkeeper. “So what the hell are you doing here?” He enquired calmly, she told him she wanted the ‘Blackfish’ and the Tully armies to aid Sansa’s conquest to win back Winterfell.   
“The Tully army is a tad preoccupied at the moment, I need to take Riverrun which is currently being held by Tully rebels. Do you see the conundrum?” He stated, Brienne huffed and it was her turn to raise her eyebrows at him.   
“They are fighting for their home”   
“It is no longer their home, it was given to the Freys by royal decree-“  
“Yes, as a reward for betraying Robb Stark and slaughtering his family!”  
“Exactly” Jaime finished bluntly. Brienne was lost for words, once she had idolised him but it would seem when his hand was removed, his honour was removed with it. But then again, his honour had always been questioned. Jaime sensed Brienne’s deep-rooted disapproval for his involvement in Robb Stark’s death, “We should not argue about politics” he sighed as he turned away from Brienne and dissolved the argument.   
“You are a knight Ser Jaime, I know there is honour in you” she said softly, she meant the words that she spoke. He would not have saved her from almost certain gang-rape at the hands of the Boltons if he did not have honour. “I have seen it mys-“   
“I am a Lannister, don’t ask me to betray my own house” he said firmly. But Brienne was impatient, she had other reasons to return to Castle Black that the Tully army. For a moment, she allowed herself to think of Tormund fondly, but quickly snapped out of it. Her negotiations must go well, and for that to happen she must focus.   
“I do no such thing” she assured, “take Riverrun without bloodshed, ride south with your mission complete and your army intact” her chin was held high, but Jaime only looked perplexed.   
“What do you propose?” he asked,   
“Allow me to ride in under a banner of truce, let me try to persuade the Blackfish to give up the castle”   
“But how will you get him to leave his ancestral home?” he asked, confusion washing over his handsome face,   
“Because you will allow him to take his Tully forces safely North” Brienne felt quite hopeful for this mission, Jaime exhaled in exasperation.   
“Have you ever met the Blackfish? He is more stubborn than you are” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, you can try and talk some sense into the old goat. He won’t listen, but his men might” he told her as he moved back to the other side of the table “not everyone wants to die for someone else’s castle.” But as he walked, Brienne said something that made him freeze,  
“I want your word that if I can persuade the Tully army to leave that they have safe passage north” Jaime nodded and gave his word that they would be safe if they left before sundown. Brienne set her jaw at his last-minute addition to his promise. She nodded and before leaving the tent she unbuckled the leather that held Oathkeeper, Jaime watched in disdain as she held the sword out to him, “You gave me this sword with a purpose, I have fulfilled that promise” she stated.   
“It is yours” Jaime said simply, “and it will always be yours” 

Brienne nodded and began to walk out of the tent, “one thing Ser Jaime, should I fail to persuade the Blackfish to surrender and if you attack the castle, my honour commands that I fight for Sansa’s kin” she said with volition. Jaime was no longer the knight he once was now that he had lost his sword hand, Brienne would kill him before his unsheathed his weapon, should it come to that. “To fight you”   
Jaime pulled an expression of uncertainty, an appearance that was not often seen by the Kingslayer. “Let us hope that it does not come to that” he sighed, Jaime knew that would be a battle he would not win. With all said and done, Brienne took her leave to go to the castle. As she got to the stables, she found Bronn pinning Pod into the mud. Brienne half chuckled, half sneered at the two, “come Pod, let’s go” she huffed as she swung herself into the saddle. Pod scrambled up from the dirt, Bron stuck his leg out and watched with a smug look before meeting eyes with Brienne’s glare before darting off. Once Pod had dusted himself off, the pair made their way out of the stables and towards the large drawbridge. 

All Brienne could do as she watched the bridge come down was hope and pray that this would go well, gods know this could go horribly wrong.


	8. Chapter 8 - Tormund

Rain fell miserably the afternoon that Brienne had left, not wanting to draw attention to himself, Tormund had sat sulkily in the gate tower. He had found a thick chunk of wood that he absent-mindedly carved. Tormund never liked goodbyes, and avoided them wherever possible, the feeling of absence was something he could afford to think about, a battle was looming and he could not afford distractions lest he never see Brienne again. Some Free Folk yet remained at Castle Black to help with forging and general maintenance as the castle was in dire need of repair, he saw to them and made sure they had everything they required in the days that lead their departure for war.

Then the raven came. 

Jon Snow summoned Tormund to his quarters, an unravelled parchment sat delicately on the oak war table. Tormund entered cautiously, his eyes flickering between Jon and the paper. Jon stood and passed the parchment to Tormund, he took it and read it carefully. Mance had taught him how to read during his service to him but the words only filled him with doubt. Jon took a step towards him,   
“Our negotiations with Riverrun have gone sour, word has been sent about the Blackfish’s death but nothing about Brienne and Pod” he said, his gentle brown eyes not leaving Tormund as he processed the information. Tormund turned away wordlessly, what good was it for him to live if only to endure her death? They had only been together a short while, but Tormund would have given his life to relive just those moments. Jon rested his hand on Tormund’s in comfort, “We will kill the Lannisters Tormund, you have my word” he stated, Tormund turned to him, his expression wild with grief and rage. He nodded and stalked away without a word, “We march in the morning, ready your people. I will do the same” he said as Tormund left through the room. 

Tormund’s nostrils flared, he needed to kill something. He would hack the first Lannister he saw to pieces. He marched to the stables, shoving a stablehand into the wall to clear the path to his horse,   
“out of my way boy, unless you want to lose your head” he snarled as he yanked himself into the saddle, earning a startled whinny from his cob at his severely agitated master “Tell my kin to prepare for march at first light” he commanded, his eyes piercing the boy like knives. The horse reared on his hind legs, a shrill cry escaped from the boy as he darted to safety from hooves and went to carry out his command. Tormund kicked his mount forward and it flew out of the castle and into the forest as fast as a shadow, hunting in the forest was easy and it was not long before deer tracks appeared in the mud beneath him. Tormund dismounted, he carried a dangerous aura about him as he scanned the area with deadly intent. He followed the tracks till the herd came into view, the majority stood together but a few deer stood slightly away from the ever-watchful eyes of the herd. Tormund crouched low, sticking to bushes and not making a sound. He was an arm’s length away from the strong beast, he silently drew his dagger. He painted it with a compound his people called ‘umbra’ it was thick and black in colour, it prevented the blade from glinting and giving away his position. Tormund dared to move closer, he held his breath and struck at the deer. The metal pierced the deer’s hide directly behind its foreleg and between its ribs. It cried out and the rest of the scattered and were gone within seconds. He shoved the dagger deep into its body, as the body went limp he stayed and looked at it for a while, allowing himself to think of Brienne, he should have said goodbye. He cursed himself at the blunder, he prayed to the Old Gods that they allow him once last glimpse into those sapphire blue eyes before he died. 

Darkness had long descended by the time Tormund had hoisted the carcass onto the back of his horse and returned to Castle Black. He gave his horse over to a scared stableboy, the same as before. Tormund looked sternly at the boy, “did you tell my people?” he asked, the boy nodded but looked suspiciously sheepish, “did they do as commanded?” he continued with a raised brow, the boy looked down to his feet and shook his head,   
“They did not listen to me Ser” he whispered. Tormund nodded with a slight smile at the mental imagery of this whelp telling his people what to do. He flicked a gold coin at the child, not that he would have much use for it, before handing him the reins and heading towards his chambers. Tormund walked into his chamber and peeled his armour from his skin, even beside the fire he felt cold. He clambered into bed and pulled the furs around him, he closed his eyes and saw Brienne’s face the day he first saw her. She was astride her grey gelding, proud and strong. Honour and loyalty drive her, something that earned her a great deal of respect from Tormund. He dreamed of her nestled into his chest, humming a southern tune that soothed him more than any other rhyme he had heard from his people. He rested well, gods know when he’ll get to have another decent sleep.


	9. Chapter 9 - Tormund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of the Bastards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a nice long chapter for you all :D enjoy!

Castle Black had long gone behind the horizon by the time the sun had risen. Tormund slouched in his saddle, this was the boring part of war, the walking and carrying and then if they were lucky they would get to the camp faster than the dark clouds that trailed behind them. Being soaked and tired would do nothing for morale, but thankfully they got to the location that Stannis had chosen before his attack on Winterfell ahead of time. It was a good position, high mountains on either side of the valley and you could see south for miles, it was just poor luck that a snow storm had caused half of his horses and army to fall before they even got to their destination.

Tormund built his tent quickly before going to help the others, while the Night’s Watch was a grand and an historic order, rapists and thieves who had never left their towns were not well equipped to survive in the North. They faffed with the materials until Tormund came over, he showed them how to put it up and then left them to do it by themselves. As night descended, Tormund took a walk through the tents as he would not sleep. He never did before a battle, between nerves and the bloodlust he could only close his eyes to blink. Thankfully Jon had called a war council and required his presence. Jon and Ser Davos explained a few southern military manoeuvres, not that they made much sense to him, the Free Folk strategy was to swarm the enemy with numbers and overwhelm them. The red-headed Stark sat in the corner, brooding about something. Women were a mystery; one he wouldn’t figure out today. Once the meeting was finished everyone left the room besides Jon and Sansa, she should have been included in the meeting, she knew the boy they were going to war against and yet Jon dismissed her advice. However, that was Jon’s business, Tormund and Ser Davos walked side by side back to camp,   
“do you think there’s hope?” Ser Davos asked, the taller man looked to him and pondered the question a moment,   
“I’ve never seen these Bolton fuckers fight” he spoke, “but they have never seen the Free Folk fight, so yes, there’s hope” he said simply, they continued walking along the rows of tents, “you want to avenge your king, don’t you?” he probed. Ser Davos frowned, he believed in Stannis but his faith in the Red Woman had cost him his life,   
“It wasn’t the Boltons who defeated Stannis, it was himself” he uttered, as if he was still annoyed with the man, “I loved the man, he lifted me up and made me something but he had demons in his skull whispering foul things” he said through gritted teeth. Tormund’s brows knitted together, what kind of foul magic was this false-king using?   
“Did you see… these demons?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him but it only earned him a look humour,   
“No, it’s a manner of speaking, not real demons” Ser Davos explained. Tormund scoffed at him,   
“Well you loved that cunt Stannis, I loved the man he burned” he said looking right at Davos, “Mance didn’t have demons in his skull, nor did he torch people or listen to some red witch” he stated. Tormund loved Mance, he was a good leader with a strong heart and a good sword hand, but now he is gone. “I believed in him, I thought he was the man to lead us through the Long Night” Tormund stopped walking and looked at Ser Davos, “but I was wrong just like you” he admitted.   
“Maybe that was our mistake, believing in kings” he half joked,  
“Jon Snow’s not a king” Tormund chimed,  
“No he’s not” Davos said with a small smile that matched Tormund’s, he offered Ser Davos an evening drink to help him sleep but he was kindly refused. With a nod, Tormund took his leave and headed towards his tent. He lay on his roll for a long time, staring up at the canopy and allowed himself a moment to think of Brienne. He thought of her grace when she swung a sword, her power, and then he remembered the gentleness of her touch. Brienne had looked upon him like she would never see him again, like he was a treasured memory. All he wanted was to know she was safe, if not he will carve his way south to find her. 

 

The Bolton army stood two hundred yards from them. At the head stood the bastard, Ramsay Bolton with a young man in tow. From the way Jon sat stiffly in the saddle, he could tell that the boy was Rickon Stark, his brother. Suddenly the boy started running towards them, what sort of trick was this? Then he understood, Ramsay stood with his longbow and fired arrow after arrow at him, each one missing their mark. Tormund’s heart was in his throat, if only the boy could run faster. As soon as the boy started running, Jon was already galloping towards Rickon and as he got close he reached out his arm to swing the boy into the saddle so they could immediately retreat out of range of the bows. 

Just as their hands met, a single shaft pierced the boy’s chest and he fell to the ground. Time seemed to stop, everyone held their breath and watched Jon. He stared at Rickon’s corpse for a moment in disbelief, even though he was a hundred yards away from him, Tormund could feel the rage that filled Jon’s eyes. “Don’t” he whispered, only for Jon to disobey and charge straight for Ramsay. In a matter of seconds, the horsemen had charged after Jon in an attempt to save him, their whinnies piercing the morning air. Once they had gone, Tormund bellowed orders to charge to the Free Folk and they sprinted towards Jon. Jon would lead them through the Long Night, he was certain, without him the Free Folk would surely be dead by now. 

The battle was utter chaos, men screamed in pain all around them. The sound of clashing steel filled the air as the army reached Jon, arrows rained down from the heavens, taking men from both sides by the dozens. Tormund was too busy hacking and slashing his way to Jon to notice that the pile of dead bodies was nearly as tall as he. He could hear a voice shouting from the other side of the body-wall and suddenly they were surrounded by spearmen, hiding behind tall shields that held the sigil of the ‘flayed man’. The Free Folk were trapped between the wall of bodies that was now two men high and an impenetrable shield wall, Tormund looked around to see if there was an obvious way out of this particular mess. They were surrounded, there was no way out. Wun-Wun the giant stormed the wall of shields, he tore them away and tossed them away regardless of whether the man was attached to it or not. The people around him were panicking, the men behind the shields shouted and lunged forward before thrusting their spears forward and skewered a hundred soldiers all at once. Tormund stared at them in horror before rage consumed him, he ran at the shield and put his sword through the man’s heart. He bellowed at him in fury, the loss of his people and Brienne finally coming to surface. It bubbled beneath his skin, threatening to pour out of him and scold the next man with his white-hot wrath. It distracted him so much so, that he only noticed the spear in his leg when his people were dragging him back to safety. No sooner had he been pulled back, the men sounded their call again and another hundred men fell to their deaths around him. What remained of the Free Folk surged towards the wall of bodies in panic, somewhere behind him Jon was being trampled by the heave of a frightened bodies trying to escape. Tormund pushed and shoved his way forwards, despite his injury he was still a force to be reckoned with as he charged onwards. Coming towards them, Bolton soldiers hacked at the people trying to flee, their bodies only adding to the pile and making it more difficult for those behind them to escape. 

At the base of the pile, Jon Umber cut down the bolting soldiers one by one as they ran past. Tormund came face to face with the traitorous bastard, they were forced into close quarters, taking cheap shots at one another in an attempt to fight. Smalljon broke his nose with a headbutt as Davos looked on helplessly, between the encroaching Bolton shieldmen and the body-pile they were driven by blind panic which brought the whole army to a standstill. People died standing, they died on the ground and they continued to be impaled by spears. There was not enough room for the dead to fall, the situation was beyond dire.   
The Umber whelp had made the mistake of thinking that a broken nose might hinder Tormund, Tormund took advantage and sunk his teeth into the man’s carotid artery. Hot blood sprayed into his mouth as Jon Umber stepped back in surprise, Tormund took his dagger and shoved it deep into his eye-socket. 

As he fell, a clear and angelic horn sounded through the bloodshed. Tormund looked for the source of the sound, in the distance he could see riders flying a banner he didn’t recognise. Their pretty clean armour washed away the filth that held the banners of the flayed man. He breathed a sigh of relief as they massacred the Bolton soldiers from behind, with the few seconds of confusion from the enemy soldiers ahead of him, Wun-Wun, Jon and Tormund charged over the wall. They cut down every man in their path, vengeance for those lost drove them forwards to the gates of Winterfell. As they clambered over the peak of the body mountain they watched as Ramsay tucked-tail and ran back to the safety of the castle walls. Tormund had spoken to Jon before about Winterfell, he had said that fifty men could hold it. But had those wooden gates faced a giant before? He didn’t think so. 

They ran at the gate with a hundred men, they paused to let Wun-Wun open the gate. It was only as he ran ahead, did Tormund notice the dozen or so arrows that protruded from Wun-Wun’s back. The giant shook the door in an attempt to break down the door, figuring out that it was barred he forced his giant hand through the thick wood. As Wun-Wun lifted the barr on the other side, an archer fired a crossbow bolt through his hand, his scream racketed through the courtyard but he used the pain to lift the wood and smash down the door. Wun-Wun ran forward as he made himself a distraction for the archers which allowed Jon’s men to run forward and easily capture the castle. Jon followed in after his men and stood by Wun-Wun who had fallen to his knees, weak from his injuries. Tormund joined them and grimaced at the state of his friend, he looked like his might make it. His hide was thick; giants were resilient creatures and he could survive this if he doesn’t sustain any more wounds.

Their relief was short-lived, Ramsay fired a shaft that buried itself into Wun-Wun’s eye socket. Jon and Tormund watched in shock as their friend fell to the ground while Ramsay sneered from a distance. Fury painted Jon’s dark eyes as he grabbed a Bolton shield from a fallen soldier, he marched at Ramsay, lifting the shield everytime Ramsay fired an arrow. Ramsay fired three arrows, and three times he missed. Tormund almost laughed as Ramsay’s expression changed from smug to frightened in a matter of seconds as he realised that he wasn’t going to win this one. As soon as he was close, he knocked the bow out of Ramsay’s hands with the shield, pushing him over without any effort at all. Quicker than he could see, Jon was kneeling over him and giving Ramsay a new facial structure. It was only after he noticed that Sansa was there did Jon stop punching him. Jon turned away without a word and ordered the clean-up. 

Tormund was ordered to see the healer about his nose and his leg, the small woman was terrified of him. He supposed he was a scary sight, this was likely the first time she had treated a Wildling and he was covered in blood. Once she was done, he donned fresh clothes and walked back to the quarters Jon had given him. He bee-lined straight for the bed, Tormund had never slept in a feather bed before, it was always a bed roll on frozen ground and this was much nicer. No sooner had he pulled the blanket over him, the large flame-haired man was fast asleep and snoring.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is where I'm going to break off from the TV Show storyline to create my own one :) hope you all stick around to read it :)

Tormund slept for two days straight after the battle, between his injuries and sheer exhaustion he had slept like the dead. The healer came and checked his wounds a few times to ensure they didn’t corrupt. When he woke Tormund rose and padded to the window and gazed out at the land around Winterfell. The vast grassland was coated in a thick blanket of white snow, it reminded him of the day he first laid eyes on Brienne. Tormund smiled at the memory but it quickly became a sad one. He moved away from the window and pulled his fresh clothes over his head, Tormund walked down to the courtyard to find Jon in the Great Hall. Jon sat at the top table with Sansa beside him, the little Lady Mormont had declared that Jon was their King in the North. Tormund smiled proudly and chanted with the rest of the room, “King in the North! King in the North”. Tormund couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety about calling him ‘King’ as he remembered his conversation with Ser Davos.

Underneath their chanting a horn sounded from the gate that meant there were riders approaching. A flicker of hope sparked in his heart, he left the room hastily and left Jon to celebrate his new position as their king. He ran to the gatehouse and scanned over the expanse, in the distance two riders approached as fast as they could through the thick snow. Tormund’s heart was in his throat; could it be? Tormund didn’t dare move in fear that the riders were a figment of his imagination, he prayed to every god that existed that it could be Brienne riding towards them. 

 

Riverrun was in utter chaos, the few that remained loyal to the Blackfish defended him till they were cut down with Lannister steel. He had led Brienne and Pod to a secret dock beneath the castle, Brynden ordered them to return to Sansa. He smiled at Brienne, “you will defend her far better than I can” he half smiled, “I have been dying for a good fight, now go before they figure out where you have gone” he ordered as Brienne reluctantly got into the boat, she pushed away from the wall and nodded a goodbye at the Blackfish. 

The current carried them down the river, there were no Lannister scouts on the battlements which meant that Jaime was still organising his troops. He appeared on the battlements, Brienne froze thinking that he might call for an archer. Instead he raised his metal hand and waved her goodbye, the next time they will see each other will be facing one another on the battlefield. 

As soon as Riverrun was out of sight, they beached the boat and went in search of horses. Nightfall had long since passed when they came across a small farm which had four or five horses tied up outside, Brienne approached cautiously with Pod following behind closely. She knocked on the door loudly, movement could be heard inside,   
“Who goes there?” An old man spoke through the door,   
“My name is Brienne of Tarth, I have with me my squire Podrick Payne, we serve Lady Sansa Stark the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark” she stated, “I have a need to buy two of your horses to get to Winterfell” she stated, the wooden door creaked open and a frightened man hid on the other side. His eyes widened with surprise at the sight of her,   
“The Tully’s are the bannermen of the Starks, anyone flying their banner is welcome in my home” he said as he swung the door open and welcomed them inside. “My name is BoreI, I was the horsemaster for Riverrun” he said as he closed the door behind them, “I have stew on the fire, you look like you’ve had quite a day” he said, Brienne nodded and sat at the bench that was placed in front of the hearth, “if you don’t mind me asking, what brings you this far south?” he asked as he poured three bowls of stew and placed it before each of them. Brienne and Pod ate hungrily,   
“I was sent her by Lady Sansa to recruit what was left of the Tully army, but negotiations went sour and here we are” she informed him, she finished her bowl quickly, it had been a long time since she had eaten a stew that had been made properly, “thank you kind Ser, you honour us with your hospitality” she said with a smile, Pod nodded inbetween mouthfuls. “Now, how much do you want for your fastest horses? It is a long way from here to Winterfell” she asked, the old man shook his head,   
“I cannot accept payment from a woman loyal to the Starks, does Winterfell have a horsemaster?” he asked, a hopeful look in his eyes, “I only ask as Riverrun has no further need of my mounts, but I’m sure the new Warden of the North could use a few extra well-bred horses for their cause” he stated, Brienne nodded.   
“You may come with us, but we will be riding hard. I cannot waste any time on returning to Sansa, you keep up or you get left behind” she informed him, “when is the soonest you can be ready to leave?” Brienne asked as she rose from her seat,   
“Give me an hour or so to gather my things and pack the saddlebags” he said before hurrying away and started stuffing the large saddlebags full of supplies he might need. Brienne nodded and walked outside to examine the horses. Tied to a wooden post there were two mares, two geldings and a stallion that had been kept separate from the others. The stallion was a dark bay, his coat almost as dark as night itself. He nickered softly as Brienne approached, turning his head to look at her curiously. Brienne walked towards him without even a flicker of apprehension, she rested her hand on the horse’s neck and patted the smooth fur. Brienne liked this horse, he was a good height and had a nice temperament, he would be a good mount for her. Brienne didn’t hear Borel approach behind her,   
“He’s a beauty isn’t he” he asked, a proud smile gracing his face. Brienne nodded, feeling suddenly shy that she had been caught off-guard. “You can have him, your squire and I will take the mares and release the other two” he stated, “I am ready to leave when you are” he said before turning on his heel to walk to his horse. Brienne was filled with glee; this beauty of a horse was now hers and he would carry her back to Tormund. Tormund… This was the first time since she left Winterfell that she even had time to think about her own wants, murmur trickled down that Jon had successfully taken Winterfell although there was no news of Tormund or Sansa. Brienne frowned deeply, she stared up at the starry night sky that reminded her of the glinting waters that surrounded the Isle of Tarth. Returning to the task at hand, she tacked her horse and mounted quickly. The stallion shifted underneath her, anxious as she was to get moving. 

They galloped across the grassland between Riverrun and Winterfell as often as they could. Brienne was impressed that the old man was able to keep up with them. It took them a week to return to Winterfell, a thick layer of snow now lay between them and the gates. It was too deep to go any faster than walking, their mounts heaved with effort as they crawled their way to the castle. The gates swung open for them, the trio were slouched in their saddles, physically exhausted from riding so hard to get there as fast as they did. Pod fell from his horse and into the snowy mud, soldiers peeled him out and took him away to be seen by the healer. Brienne slid down from her saddle, her stallion’s knees were shaking when the stablehands led the tired beasts away to be cared for. Gravity weighed down on her, she fell to her knees unable to keep her weight upright. Brienne felt arms wrap around her and her support her weight. Through half-lidded eyes she saw hair coloured the same as a fading sunset before she fell into unconsciousness. “You’re safe now” Brienne heard through the darkness.

She woke that evening, her armour was on its stand and a hearth was lit. Tormund sat patiently at the end of the bed, he fidgeted with his hands and did not notice her wake. Brienne had to pinch herself to make sure this was real, she was here in this moment, alive and Tormund was too. She leaned forward, heat rushed to her cheeks as tears threatened behind her eyes. “T-Tormund?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper, almost as though she expected him to vanish as she said his name. Tormund snapped his head round and his eyes met hers,   
“Brienne...” He breathed, his eyes were awash with concern as he shuffled towards her and took her hand in his. “How are you feeling? He asked, looking from her hand to her face. Brienne frowned,   
“I failed Lady Sansa, I failed you all” she stated as a tear rolled down her cheek, Tormund wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. He frowned deeply before pulling Brienne into his embrace,   
“No Brienne, you didn’t fail us” he said as he kissed the top of her head, his strong arms were wrapped around her, “You came back, that is all that matters to me” he murmured into her blonde hair. Brienne snuggled herself into his chest, allowing herself to be comforted in a way she never had before. She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes from her tears,   
“I need to go and see Lady Sansa, she will be wondering what happened to me” she muttered, looking at the door but not really wanting to move. Tormund tightened his grip slightly,   
“You can see that lot tomorrow, let’s stay here before they have us off doing other sensible things” he said with a smile, Brienne returned the smile and buried herself deeper into his embrace.


	11. Chapter 11

They had spent the evening together; Tormund had sent for food for Brienne so she could eat when she woke. Between sheer exhaustion and the exceedingly long ride she had just endured, she was very hungry. The stew was of much better quality than what she had eaten at Castle Black but then again even stale bread tasted glorious to a hungry man. Tormund had watched her from across the table with a gaze that didn’t believe that she was really here, she smiled softly up at him, “Tormund, are you well?” Brienne asked after swallowing a hearty mouthful of stew. The corner of Tormund’s mouth twitched up into a smile and his hazel eyes stared deep into hers,  
“I don’t dare look away, if I do you might not be there when I look back” he said softly as he took her hand in his own. Tormund pressed his lips to her knuckles softly, his course ginger beard tickling her skin.   
“I am not going anywhere Tormund, I swear it, by the old gods and the new” Brienne stated with the faintest smirk playing on her lips. Tormund grinned at her,   
“Well they smiled on me when they brought you back to me” he said before taking another mouthful of stew. Tormund’s mind was plagued with the battle, no matter how he tried to shift the images, they always haunted him. Every night since that day he had suffered ghastly nightmares; seeing the piles of bodies, among them his friends and family. Their bodies motionless but their bright blue eyes followed him as he walked past. Amidst the bodies he could see a lock of familiar platinum hair, panic rose like bile in his throat as he dug through the gore to find Brienne’s emotionless face, her eyes glowed sapphire as her hand snatched him by the throat and gripped him with inhuman strength. That was when he awoke, out of breath and sweat beading on his skin. 

Tormund needed to speak about it lest he go mad with the nightmares. Brienne looked at him from across the table with a concerned expression,  
“Tormund, is something bothering you?” Brienne asked, “Is it about the battle for Winterfell? No one has told me what happened yet” Brienne encouraged, taking his hand in hers. Tormund nodded, 

“The Bolton bastard slaughtered men by the hundreds, both ours and his own to create a wall of bodies. The smell-“ he curled his lip in disgust at the memory, “they surrounded and trapped us, butchering us like sheep” Tormund spat, “everyone ran for the wall, meeting the Bolton soldiers at the top and adding to the pile. My people were trampled, they were suffocated and they were slaughtered” he muttered, “I should be happy, Jon has been named King in the North, plus you and I are still alive” he said, looking at their hands and smiled softly, “and yet I am haunted by these foul dreams every time I close my eyes” Tormund said barely louder than a whisper. Brienne looked at him with an expression of sorrow and empathy, she didn’t know what to say.   
“Tormund, I-“ she started,  
“It is alright Brienne, I will figure it out” he said, “don’t worry about me” Tormund stated, giving her a half-hearted smile. “But I cannot thank the gods enough for your safe return” his brown eyes flickered to her hands, a warm smile spreading over his lips as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

The door behind them swung open as Jon entered followed by Sansa, both Brienne and Tormund rose to greet them. Jon looked strained, but then he had been named King in the North despite being a bastard and then, there was the ever-present knowledge of the white-walkers and the inevitable Armageddon that they would bring with them. Sansa stepped forward to Brienne,   
“Brienne! I am so pleased to see you have recovered from your journey” Sansa sighed with relief, Brienne went down onto one knee and bowed her head,   
“Words cannot describe how sorry I am that I could not save your uncle, he was a good man and deserved better than a death at the Lannister’s hands” she stated, her brows furrowed together, her crystal eyes widening as she felt Sansa’s hand on her shoulder.  
“There is nothing to forgive, it was known that my uncle was both stubborn and proud” Sansa stated, “However, all is not lost. The horsemaster you brought with you, Borel is proving to be invaluable. We now have a good bloodline to make strong chargers for our cavalry” she spoke with a smile. Brienne was shaky on her feet as she stood, it had been a hard ride to Winterfell but if it had helped their war effort then it was worth it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait, been dealing with a lot this past year but planning on trying to be more on it with this story.  
> Anywho, please enjoy some Torriene <3~

Winterfell was rebuilt in a few months, soon the courtyard was bustling again with traders and training soldiers. With word being sent from the capital that King Tommen had died, along with his Queen Margery and the entire order of the High Sparrows leaving Cersei to be crowned the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Between all the disorder in the Red Keep and the rumours that Danaerys, the Dragon Queen has finally made her way to reclaim a thrown she says is rightfully hers, there was more time than expected for the Stark family.

 

Jon and Sansa had entrusted the restoration of Winterfell to the builders kindly offered by their new allies, so they now had time to make a start on their defensive strategy. Ever since the Red Lady had revived Jon Snow, he had been in constant battles with no end in sight. Jon was now able to take a more relaxed approach to his newfound leadership, he could now delegate his orders to make a more secured Winterfell. Sansa however had been focusing her efforts in restoring Winterfell to its former glory, much to the delight of the inhabitants. The direwolf banners waved proudly in the wind, the walls were now fully rebuilt and held strong against the ever growing cold. The courtyard was now buzzing with life again as Sansa restored old trade routes and began working on new alliances, Brienne and Petyr Baelish at her side.

 

Brienne recovered quickly from her journey, hating to be a burden on anyone. Brienne knew she was not the easiest patient, by any stretch of imagination. There was work to be done, although their battles between Northmen were over, the overbearing threat of winter was looming. Jon seemed to constantly have worry written into his handsome features, plus with Sansa seeming to contradict his every move, there was a somewhat a palpable atmosphere at Winterfell.

 

After a heated discussion with Jon, Sansa marched to her quarters with Brienne in tow. She closed the large wooden door softly behind them. Sansa stood facing the window, her fingers lightly gripping her chin in thought.

“My Lady, might I ask what you’re thinking?” Brienne asked softly, standing tall with a hand resting on the pommel of her sword. An audible sigh escaped her lips as Sansa turned to look at her protector, her gaze softening as their eyes met.

“I’m sorry Brienne, I just can’t understand Jon’s arrogance. Why won’t he listen to me?” Sansa snapped, “We have turned our backs on the South, to Cersei! Nobody knows her like I do, and this is just the opportunity she needs to strike-“

 

“We must trust in his judgement, whether you like it or not, Jon is the King in the North” Brienne interrupted, her gaze unwavering “if you dislike what Jon is deciding for Winterfell’s future then discuss it with him afterwards, it is unwise to undermine a King in front of his subjects” Brienne spoke softly, “As I understand, you and Jon did not see eye to eye in the past” Brienne continued, “but you need to now, both you and your brother are key to the future of everyone in Westoros. That is what I believe”

Sansa watched Brienne carefully, seemingly taking in what she was saying. She nodded, and with a bow Brienne took her leave.

 

Brienne walked with her hands behind her back, her breaths visible from the ever-growing cold as she headed through the dark corridors to her quarters. When she arrived, a fire had already been lit so her room was warm and snug. Brienne didn’t feel his presence as Tormund sneaked up behind her and placed his large hands on her waist, “Welcome back” he murmured into her ear before planting soft kisses down her throat. Brienne could feel her blush spreading from her cheeks down her throat, his rumbling voice ricocheted somewhere deep within her. Her eyes closed as a soft moan escaped her lips, nothing Brienne had ever experienced was as wonderful as she felt in this moment. Tormund made her feel like a woman to be desired, not the giant monster as she had become used to.

Tormund had moved around to face her, his hazel eyes staring into hers. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, since their first night in Castle Black, the pair had not had a chance to be with each intimately. Brienne returned with her own passion, taking his bottom lip gently between her teeth as she pressed her muscular body against his bare chest. Tormund made short work of the buckles that contained her before tearing open her tunic to reveal her torso. Shadows from the flames danced across her porcelain skin, Tormund paused a moment to take her in. Every time he sees her, he almost can’t believe she’s real. Brienne turned her head in embarrassment under his stare, he lifted her chin till their eyes met. “Do not look away, I want to see you” Tormund instructed, his gaze unwavering as his soft lips kissed a fiery trail down her body. His beard tickled her pale skin, setting her nerves alight. He released her from her leggings, throwing them carelessly to the side.

Jon had learned an invaluable technique with Ygritte, a secret which was discreetly divulged to Tormund. The King had at first seemed unwilling to share his knowledge but Tormund was indeed persuasive.

 

The Wilding kneeled before Brienne, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She gazed down at him, her hand covering her mouth at the embarrassment of this position. A soft moan escaped her as Tormund placed gentle, nibbling kisses down her thigh. His coarse beard, kissed by fire, tickled her already sensitive skin. As he neared her core, the tone of Brienne’s moans changed. Brienne moaned as Tormund’s mouth found her centre, his tongue circled her entrance whilst his thumb gently rubbed her clit.

“Tormund-“ Brienne breathed as he slid a finger into her, the sudden but welcome feeling made her shudder with pleasure. She could feel something building up within her, Brienne gazed down at Tormund as this delectable feeling brought her to the brink of climax. Brienne let her hand fall from her face and rested on Tormund’s free shoulder, her nails digging into his bare shoulder. Echoes of Tormund’s name escaped her lips as her orgasm came washing over her.

 

Brienne didn’t even notice that Tormund had got to his feet, she was totally absorbed into the afterglow. When her sapphire eyes opened Tormund was as bare as the day he was born, he pressed his lips to hers, the salty taste of her arousal only rekindling to her flames of desire. He pushed her back against the wall, Brienne almost enjoyed the contrasting temperature between the heat that Tormund was emitting and the cold, rough stone behind her. He lifted her legs around his waist before entering her in one swift thrust. Brienne’s hand shot up to her mouth as she breathed a moan, relishing in the fullness of their joining. To begin with Tormund’s movements were slow and deep, but quickly desire began to overcome him. He took her earlobe into his mouth, gently nibbling it with his teeth as he plunged himself deep within her. “Say my name, my love, tell me what you want” Tormund panted into her ear. Brienne’s eyes widened, struggling to concentrate as she tried to think about what he was asking.

“T-Tormund” she breathed in to his ear, “I am yours, I want to you make love to me like tonight is the last night we are alive” Brienne pulled back till her ocean-blue eyes met his, Tormund’s thrust paused a second as he took in her words. The wilding lifted her over to the bed, placing himself so Brienne was sat in his lap.

“I want you to choose the pace” Tormund growled as he leaned back so he could get a good view of the war goddess that was astride him. Brienne nodded, re-positioning her legs so she was comfortable. And then she began to move. Enjoying the control, Brienne began to bounce, her strong core flexing as she moved. A low groan grumbled from the base of Tormund’s throat, his hips moving of their own volition. Brienne arched into him, feeling him reach to the deepest parts of her, her back arched as her climax neared. Tormund felt her body’s reaction, creating a similar effect in his own body. Just seeing her this way was enough to make any man weak at the knees, but he was not any man, Tormund was here in this moment with her and he would be there for every moment since. He sat up and brought their foreheads together, his thrusts becoming fervent with need. The pair came crashing through their orgasms with cries of want.

 

They lay next to one another, draped across one another under their furs, recovering from their intense lovemaking. Tormund drew small circles on the base of Brienne back, smiling to himself as he thought he must be blessed by the Gods to have received this woman into his life. When he opened his eyes he found Brienned gazing up at him, her sky-blue eyes sparkling in the firelight. _A Lady of the Sapphire Isle, indeed._ Tormund thought, he never wanted to be without this woman. A soldier’s life is never a long one, but while short it should be lived to the fullest, and Tormund wanted to experience everything he could with Brienne in the short time allotted to them.

 

“Brienne, would you be my wife?”


End file.
